


Wrong Until You Make It Right

by Suplex



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Between the treaty and the game's start, Created with the SWRPG system, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 05:25:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17094701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suplex/pseuds/Suplex
Summary: Naruun'orten left the Jedi Order - and her lover with it - after the Treaty of Coruscant, frustrated by their seeming willingness to surrender in the face of evil. Now captain of a smuggling vessel, she and her crew are offered the opportunity to take the fight to the Sith Empire...but will it cost them their lives?





	Wrong Until You Make It Right

Naruun didn’t like waiting. Not when she was young, not when she had been a Jedi Knight, and certainly not in the shadiest part of Nar Shaddaa sitting on three crates of newly imported and highly illegal ryll she was selling to a lieutenant of one of the major Hutts on the moon. Waiting was, at best, mind-numbingly boring, and at worst could cost you your life. This kind of situation generally leaned toward the latter.

Idly, the Twi’lek thumbed her wrist comm. “Oran, you in position?”

“Have been for the last four check-ins, Mint.” The human’s voice crackled over the speaker. “I ever told you you worry too much? Bad for your health.”

Naruun rolled her eyes at the comment, returning her gaze to the long-disused plaza where she was waiting deep in the bowels of the city, enormous gray steel spires rising up on every side, while she thought forward to the task ahead. It seemed simple on its face - hand over the ryll to one of Koraa the Hutt’s agents, collect her payment, be offplanet by dinner. Simple enough, which is how it would go if Koraa sent Iten. She could at least trust the Gran to be reasonable and straightforward, if a little blunt at times. But the odds were just as good that she would send her majordomo, Urana, who was as arbitrary and easily-offended as he was full of himself since Koraa’s last majordomo had died in an airspeeder wreck, and could just as easily pay in blaster bolts as credits. She preferred the latter, but she’d happily oblige him if he decided on the former.

Oran’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Guests coming up from the southern alleyway. Looks like three coming out, two staying behind. Stay safe down there.” She spared a glance and a reassuring smile up to one of the windows high above to her left, where she knew he was keeping a watchful eye on the plaza with a sniper rifle. She was grateful for the assistance, even if he was an awful shot with the heavy thing.

Moments later, Oran’s prediction came true as three figures walked out from between two buildings. Two bodyguards - one a blonde human woman, the other a Rodian man, both with blaster pistols in their hands - and one….Quarren. Dammit.

Urana’s mouth-tendrils warbled as he spoke. “Ah, Naruun’orten, how wonderful to see you again. I see you brought my product?”

Naruun forced herself not to gag at his ‘distinguished businessman’ persona. “Hello, Urana, I did.” She patted the top of the crate she was leaning against. “Three hundred kilos of ryll, sealed for freshness. Now, did you bring my money, or are we going to have a repeat of last time?”

His mouth formed a Quarren approximation of a smile, which was incredibly unpleasant to watch. “I don’t think it will have to come to  _ that _ again. But yes, I have your payment.” He pulled a credit chit out from his robes. “Two thousand credits.”

“ _ Two _ thousand? I was promised three! Don’t try to cheat me, Urana.” She started forward, freezing when the bodyguards raised their weapons at her.

“Call it a handler’s fee, dear. I would take it if you hope to leave here in one piece.”

Naruun put her hands up in a soothing gesture, steadying herself and looking cautiously at Urana. “Twenty-five hundred, and I won’t tell Koraa you’re skimming.”

His eyes widened, and time froze for a moment, everyone standing icily still. Then he relaxed, the tension quickly easing. “Bold, my dear. Twenty-five hundred it is.” He made a quick adjustment to the chit before handing it to her. “It’ll be our secret, then.”

She took the chit and stashed it in her jacket, nodding acknowledgement to him. “I’ll be taking my leave. A pleasure doing business with you as always.”

“And with you. Travel safely, Miss Orten. Nar Shaddaa can be a very dangerous place.” With that, he turned around, walking away as the bodyguards activated the crates’ repulsorlifts and carted them down the alley. Naruun let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding in as she walked the opposite direction out of the plaza, heading back to her ship.

Oran met up with her after half a block’s walk, rifle slung over his shoulder and bundled up against the cold of the moon’s middle levels. “Well, Mint, once again your flawless negotiation skills save us from a world of trouble. You didn’t even cut anyone in half this time.”

Naruun shot him a bemused look as they walked. “If I remember correctly, that was a fight  _ you _ started.”

“Oh, always details with you. How much did we make? Enough to go shopping while we’re here? I know Ivali needs some new components to work with.”

“Twenty-five hundred. He offered two thousand, which was honestly more than I was expecting, but he took my bluff. Did you know he’s skimming on Koraa’s stock?”

Oran whistled. “That was a gamble. Not surprising, though. It’s common for  _ respectable _ lieutenants to be taking off the top, not to mention salt-of-the-earth sleemos like him. So, wh-” He paused, looking around suddenly. “Did you hear that?”

Before Naruun could answer, an Aqualish man came running out of the alleyway next to them, making her jump back and knocking Oran over. A Falleen man holding a vibroknife walked out after him slowly, a dark look on his face. “Urana doesn’t like being threatened, Miss Orten.”

“Tell Urana he can say that to my face!” Naruun drew her holdout blaster as she spoke, blasting the Falleen square in the chest and sending him toppling to the ground. Oran managed to pull his own blaster out while on the ground, managing to hit the Aqualish in an artery. The alien let out a blood-curdling scream as he collapsed, and both of them could hear footsteps start heading their way. More of Urana’s thugs. Naruun quickly helped Oran up off the ground. “Let’s get out of here, fast.”

He nodded, dusting himself off. “After you, boss.”

They sprinted down the steel walkway, which was thankfully clear at this low level. Naruun flicked on her comm as they ran. “Ivali, get the engines warmed up, we’re leaving.”

A teenager’s whine emitted from her wrist. “Already? But I wanted to-”

She gritted her teeth. “There will be other planets to shop on, preferably ones where we aren’t fighting a local crime lord’s second in command. Now get the ship prepped, that’s an order.”

A long suffering sigh released from the speaker before a “yeah, okay,” and the comm went silent. She threw a look at Oran. “You know, I blame you for that.”

“Hey, don’t look at me! I am an  _ exemplary _ role model, thank you kindly.”

Naruun sighed and kept running.

* * *

The two of them ran across the landing bay toward their ship, an old  _ Lethisk _ -class freighter called the Varazdat, which had seen better days. Specifically, it had seen over 100,000 of them, and was starting to show it despite the loving attention of their engineer. Nicks and carbon scoring coated the hull in a mosaic of violence.

Naruun spared a glance over her shoulder as they ascended the ramp. Five very angry, very armed bruisers had come to avenge their friends, and there were likely more behind them. She ran up the ramp, closing it, and headed into the cockpit.

Oran was already in the pilot’s seat by the time she got there, double-checking the instruments; next to him sat a young Chiss woman with short hair, cross-legged in the co-pilot’s seat and toying with some kind of device in her lap. “So the meeting went well, then?”

She sat in the gunner’s seat behind the girl. “About as well as expected. Better, actually. This time he didn’t try to double-cross us until  _ after _ I had the money. Ivali, lay in a course for Ord Mantell, Oran, get us out of here.”

Despite groaning, Ivali uncrossed her legs and got to work at the navicomputer as the ship lifted off the ground and out of the bay, blaster fire from the enforcers on the ground glancing off the hull. The ship flew up into the Nar Shaddaa night, and left the system behind.


End file.
